Winter Flowers
by SasukeBlade
Summary: HM 64 :: In a fit of loneliness, Popuri decides she will make somebody's Christmas cheerful if it kills her. "Grumpy Pants" Gray is just a victim here, really. Secret Santa gift for Lorelei547!


Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to Lorelei547! I hope you enjoy this immensely. I had a great time with it!

**Winter Flowers**

Popuri blew a strand of pink hair from her eyes and looked forlornly at the fogged windows of the greenhouse. It was snowing again, just light flurries, but already she was tired of this winter. How she longed to be outside, to run about Moon Mountain, to pick wildflowers.

But no, more snow, more days indoors, more time to _think_. And thinking was the last thing she needed to do right now. Popuri poured out the last drops of the watering can on a turnip sprout and returned to the pump to fill it. Not even chores could occupy her busy mind, not when-

A faint, girlish laugh sounded from the road outside, and Popuri's head whipped around. Karen, it had to be Karen, and if it was Karen, then that meant Jack. Her heart dropped like a stone.

Jack, with his warm brown eyes and smooth, windblown brown hair. Jack, with his laugh and his friendly pup and his farm. Jack, with his flowers, always with his flowers. Jack, who had never failed to water their blue flower. Jack, who had failed to come around for the past two weeks.

Jack, who even now she could make out just past the clouded glass, chasing Karen down the snowy path to the bar. Their laughter faded and was eventually cut off by the slamming of a door.

Popuri bit her lip, hard, but she didn't cry. She _refused_ to cry. She was going to be happy this midwinter. Chin unconsciously jutting forward, she finished her chores and marched resolutely back to the house, busying herself with clumsily knitting, and ignoring the idle thought that wondered what she would do when she ran out of chores and yarn.

* * *

If there was any person who seemed less happy than she this winter, it was Gray. From beneath her eyelashes she watched him as he stomped around the room, at last flinging himself down on one of the beds. Doug and Ann simply ignored him. Apparently his cabin fever was a regularity with each winter storm.

"Cursing never helped anything," Doug advised as he played a card. Ann swore softly anyway, Doug raised an eyebrow at her and turned back to Gray. "Why don't you come play cards with us? Or you could show Popuri that trick."

"What trick?" Popuri asked, red eyes wide with curiosity. But Gray simply muttered something unintelligible into the bedspread, turning away. "Come on, Gray, show me!"

"Don't bother," Ann muttered out of the corner of her mouth, rolling her eyes as she played a card out of her hand without looking. "He's in one of those moods again."

Doug nodded sagely, but Popuri wouldn't let it go. Playing one of her own cards, she bounded over to the bed and shook the crabby boy. "C'mon Gray, cheer up!"

"Leave me alone," he growled, but that only made her more determined. He couldn't see the stubborn chin, the narrowed red eyes, or the furrowed brow, but if he had, Gray would have recognized that he never had a choice in the matter.

* * *

The snowstorm ended by the eighth. Early that morning, so early the sun was only a pink tinge in the sky, Popuri rushed down the lane to the Green Ranch's mailbox and deposited a small note inside.

The metal door shut with a small squeak. She grinned to herself, and tried to picture his reaction to the phrase "Grumpy Pants" as she ran back to the flower shop.

* * *

She didn't have to wonder long. Ann marveled over the incident, giggling over the way her brother had stomped around the room after reading that note. "How could a note about cheering up make anyone that mad?" she gasped and wiped her eyes, clutching at her ribs as another round of giggles struck her. Popuri couldn't help her own laughter as she pictured the scene.

She just had to cheer him up, though. At first it had been a silly joke, but now she honestly wondered what, if anything, would make him smile. He hadn't been this way when they were children. Somehow farmwork and adolescence had made him serious and incredibly crabby. What had began with a silly note had become a challenge: could she make Gray smile?

Her next opportunity came sooner than expected. She walked into the bakery just as Gray was walking out, arms laden with bread and a small package of cookies, tied shut with a jaunty red ribbon. Elli bustled out from the back, cheeks rosy with the heat of the ovens.

"Hi, Popuri!" she said warmly. "What can I-oh no!" she practically flew around the counter, snatching up a piece of cloth left on one of the tables. "His scarf!" the cheerful girl threw open the door to the bakery and leaned out into the street. "Gray!" she called, but the redhead was long gone.

"Oh," Elli bit her lip, glancing at the russet red scarf, then back down the road. "Jeff won't like it if I go to return this, but he really shouldn't go out without a scarf!"

Plans already forming in her head, Popuri snatched the scarf out of Elli's hands. "Not to worry!" she chirped. "I'll return it after I drop the bread off at Mama's!"

"Would you?" Elli's eyes were shining with gratitude. "You're the best!" she gave Popuri a quick, floury hug, then raced around to the counter to retrieve the bread. "And here, have some cookies as well! Thanks!"

* * *

It had been a long time since she had made a snowman, but this one didn't look half bad at all, she thought. It was late this time, she could make out the sound of Ann and Doug's voices from their home. Hopefully they wouldn't think to really peer out the window, or she'd be seen in an instant.

Wrapping the scarf securely about the snowman's neck, or rather, the gap between his head and body, Popuri stifled a laugh. She pressed two pebbles into the head, then a few more in a lopsided smile. Removing a carrot from her pocket, she stuffed that into the poor snowman's face as well, then speared a note upon one of his stick arms.

Stepping back, she eyed her creation with a satisfied nod. Perhaps it wouldn't make him smile, but it would make him curious. Smiling like the cat that caught the canary, she trotted home, steadfastly ignoring the path she used to take to Jack's farm.

* * *

When she next made her way over to the Green Ranch, she was surprised to find Cliff there. The traveler was having a serious conversation with Doug in front of the store, so she joined Ann in sitting on one of the ranch's sturdy fences, not so covertly watching the happenings.

"What's going on?" she asked Ann, who shook her head from side to side, ponytail swaying.

"Cliff's bird is sick," Ann replied, eyebrows knitted together in a frown. "Dad's not sure if our Animal Medicine will help birds though."

"Couldn't hurt to try, right?" Popuri asked.

A much more masculine voice interrupted from behind them. "You'd be surprised."

Popuri squeaked and would have fallen backwards off the fence had it not been for the strong hand that pushed her upright. Gray raised an eyebrow, but beyond that did not seem to concern himself with her predicament. "Animals can have all kinds of allergic reactions to things," he continued. "Our medicine could kill his falcon."

"That would be awful," Ann announced, Popuri nodding her head in agreement. She glanced shyly through her lashes at Gray, but the boy was already stalking off, past the still standing, though somewhat stripped, snowman.

Was that a note attached to one of his stick arms? She smiled.

* * *

_I AM NOT A 'GRUMPY PANTS'. WHAT ARE YOU, FIVE?_ The stern, blocky letters demanded.

Popuri hid a snicker behind her hand.

* * *

Maria jumped, sending her glasses clattering to her desk as a pink-haired whirlwind burst into her quiet library. "What on earth?" she asked as she groped for her spectacles with one hand, shutting her notebook with the other. "Popuri, what is going on?"

"Nothing too important!" Popuri said, stopping in front of her desk with a decided thump of her boots. "I just need some books about veterinary medicine, that's all."

"Really?" Maria's eyes widened, she seemed surprised that someone had come into her library at all, let alone actually looking for books. "Any type in particular?"

Popuri thought. "Umm, birds? Falcons, specifically? Cliff's bird is sick," she explained.

"Oh, no," Maria said, genuine concern lighting her features as she moved knowingly to a shelf. "I don't know if I have anything focusing on falcons, but I do have a few volumes... aha, right here!" She pulled out a thick tome and blew the dust off the top of its pages. "This is a general text about veterinary science."

Her face fell a little with disappointment. Popuri had hoped to bring something readable. Once again, though, Maria came through. Fingers dancing across the spines, they suddenly darted in, pulling out a much less intimidating book. "This one is just about caring for birds. It's not as complete, but it may help."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Popuri shouted, wheeling around and heading for the door. "I'll return it after Christmas!"

"Wait!" Maria called, one hand outstretched as she tried to stop the pink bundle of energy. No such luck, Popuri was gone before Maria could stamp the card catalogue. With a sigh, the librarian sat down and sifted through her copies. Thankfully she knew every book in this place.

* * *

Not wanting to damage the book, she wrapped it in wax paper and tucked it into a sack, tucking it under the snowman's arm. She left another note, drawing a smiling face and a question mark, no words.

* * *

_WHO ARE YOU?_ he wanted to know. _STOP LEAVING ME NOTES. IT'S CREEPY._

* * *

This time she left a pair of finished, russet red knitted mittens. Her enthusiasm for knitting had improved quite a bit once she'd begun this little game.

Sticking one on each end of the snowman's stick arms, she chuckled to herself. Ann had told her that while Gray seemed as grumpy as ever, every morning he practically leapt from bed to go outside for "some reason, Goddess knows." Popuri had not even told her friend what she was up to. Ann couldn't tell a lie to save her life anyway.

With the gloves secured, she stuffed yet another note into the left mitten.

_Let's play a game,_ she had written. She had done her best to mask her script, despite being certain Gray had not seen her handwriting in the past five years. _If you can guess who I am by Christmas, I'll leave you alone to your misery, Grumpy Pants. If not, then _she had paused there upon originally writing it, not entirely certain what to say. Then what? _Then you'll just have to put up with this little game._ Oh, how threatening. Well, it was good enough.

She tried to picture his reaction, knowing that if it were good enough, Ann would tell her about it tomorrow.

* * *

_THIS IS DUMB._ Gray announced. _DO I AT LEAST GET TO ASK QUESTIONS?_

For someone who thought it stupid, he certainly seemed interested. Just that morning Gray had stopped by the flower shop and asked if she knew which people in the village could knit. Oh, the wild goose chase she had led him on! "I think Elli does," she mused, surreptitiously watching him for reactions. "And Maria. Let's see, Sasha and Anna, my mother, and, oh, Jack does too! Why?"

He'd made the most comical face at hearing Jack's name. Biting her tongue, she held onto her laughter just long enough for him to walk out the door, then collapsed into giggles.

* * *

_Of course,_ she wrote back, and left him cookies.

* * *

_THE COOKIES WERE GOOD. DID YOU MAKE THEM? WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR?_

Popuri was surprised to find more than just a question. The compliment definitely threw her. Glancing over at the window to make sure Gray was not peeking out of it, she wrote, _No more than one question at a time! Green._ Given that snowmen didn't have feet, she left her gift of warm, knitted socks in the same russet red in a package tied to one of his arms.

Even if Gray didn't end up smiling once because of this whole little venture, perhaps he'd end up more cheerful and warmer anyway.

* * *

_RED IS MY FAVORITE COLOR, _the next note admitted. _WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FESTIVAL?_

Popuri debated over answering this one honestly for hours. To answer honestly would give him a major hint, but then, if she answered dishonestly, this little game wouldn't be fair at all. She was so focused on her little dilemma that she gave little notice to Jack and Karen playing about in the snow around the vineyard, making her purchases and hurrying home.

At last, she settled on what she felt was a fair, if slightly misleading response. _The Flower Festival_, she wrote. _Because I love dancing._

There. Not as obvious as if she'd said it was because of the flowers! She tied the note around the jug of cider, then left the bottle to chill at the snowman's feet.

* * *

_HMM. FAVORITE ANIMAL?_ Came the next note. Popuri grinned, her teeth chattering in the cold. It was due to snow heavily tonight, and with only a week to go until Christmas, soon she wouldn't have to traipse out here every night to continue this game with Gray.

As it was, Ann had found out what she was doing. "Come on, Popuri, I know your handwriting. And when Gray started asking me weird questions about girls in the village, like _who likes the Flower Festival best_, I knew something was going on."

"What did you tell him?" Popuri had asked, wondering if the jig was up.

Ann snorted loudly. "A fat load of nothing. Are you kidding? This little mystery of yours has been perfect for him. Now he doesn't grouch his way through the day, he just interrogates everyone he comes across. 'Who do you know that likes the color green?'" she demanded, lowering her voice comically. "'Did you see my scarf a few weeks ago?'"

Now, cradling the paper in the palm of her mitten, she scribbled out her answer to his latest question gladly. It would confuse the hell out of him. After all, who would ever believe her favorite animals were chickens?

She left him a small container of homemade ice cream. Sure, it wasn't the best season for such things, but what else would survive sitting overnight in a snow bank?

* * *

_REALLY? CHICKENS? I DON'T THINK I"VE EVER MET ANYONE WHOSE FAVORITE ANIMALS WERE CHICKENS._

Popuri smiled. Well, he knew her, didn't he? Doing this certainly had been an education for the both of them.

_THE ICE CREAM WAS DELICIOUS. IT MADE MY HEAD HURT, BUT I KEPT EATING IT ANYWAY. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FLAVOR OF ICE CREAM?_

She was a little surprised at the length of this note. He'd never been this talkative before. Quickly writing _Strawberry,_ she slipped the package of strawberries onto their doorstep, knocking loudly and then dashing away, ducking behind the house and heading for the tree line.

Would he be annoyed that he'd just barely missed her? Intrigued? Desperate to know more? One could only hope.

* * *

Ann confronted her best friend the next day. "I just want you to know that my big brother is going crazy trying to figure out who you are. Seriously. If you don't like him, you need to stop doing this."

"Why?" Popuri asked, knitting needles moving quickly through the yarn. She'd become rather experienced in a very short time. This project was just like the socks, only bigger after all. "It's only a game."

"Not to him." At that, she looked up. Ann was serious. Her blue eyes leveled with Popuri's red gaze. "Especially not once he realizes it's you."

Again, she could only ask, "Why?"

"Popuri, Gray's liked you for years. Every night he's at our house moaning about how he hopes his mysterious benefactor is you, or how he's afraid that it's you and you're just playing with him, or even worse that it's Jack or something. After you started dating Jack, he was crushed."

Stunned, Popuri could only shake her pink head back and forth. "I never knew. He was always so quiet, or so angry."

Ann had the best disbelieving look in Flowerbud Village. "Really? He's only like that around you. You make him nervous. With most people he can carry on a decent conversation, you know."

But she hadn't known. And now that she did, what would she do with that information?

'If you don't like him, you need to stop doing this,' Ann had said earlier. Now, as she stood with his next question in her hand, she wondered. Did she like him? Looking at what she wrote, she had only said the truth.

* * *

_WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE MEMORY OF ME?_

She left an assortment of flowers, all pressed._  
_

_What isn't?_

* * *

The next night was Christmas Eve. With a surprisingly heavy heart she tied the knitted red stocking around the snowman's neck and patted him gently on his dome head. He had served well and faithfully, and put up with much wear and tear.

Inside the stocking, which was trimmed with her favorite forest green, she had left all of Gray's favorite goodies, as well as a small notebook and pen set. After all this passing of notes, she figured he would need more paper.

_IF I KNOW YOUR IDENTITY BUT I DON'T WANT THIS TO END, WHAT HAPPENS THEN?_

Fist curling around the scrap of paper, Popuri blinked hard. After much thought, she knew what she wanted. But did he know what he wanted? It was one thing for Ann to say what she did, but she wasn't her brother. He would have to speak for himself.

_Then don't be afraid to come find me,_ she wrote at last, _Merry Christmas, _and retreated to her home for the last time.

* * *

Christmas dawned to a light snowfall. Lillia woke Popuri with a slight shake and a wide, beaming smile. "Merry Christmas, Poppy!" she cried.

"Merry Christmas, Mama," she replied with a yawn, stretching in her embarrassing but ridiculously warm and comfortable hen and chick print pajamas. "Should we open presents or have breakfast first?"

"Oh, I think we should open presents," Mama said with an all too satisfied smile. "In fact, there's a rather excellent one waiting for you outside."

Popuri rose, slipping her feet into warm green slippers, and headed toward the back door, figuring Mama must have hidden something for her in the greenhouse when Lillia shook her head. "Try the front door," she urged her daughter.

Covering another jaw cracking yawn, Popuri opened the front door a crack and slipped out of it, closing it behind her so that no heat escaped the small house. Turning to look for whatever package her mother might have left outside, she gasped.

A snowman stood on the front path, complete with stick arms and lopsided pebbly grin. Hanging from one stick arm was a small package. Hardly daring to hope, unable to keep from smiling, she took the gift and unwrapped it.

It was a small silver pendant of a flower. A simple black cord looped through a tiny hole at the top. Removing it from the box, Popuri admired it in the pale light. It was simple and beautiful. Setting the small box down, she tied it around her neck and stroked the cool metal gently with one finger.

"Merry Christmas, Popuri," a quiet, male voice said. While she had been busy with the gift, Gray had come up the lane and was now standing by the fence. His blue cap was in one of his hands, he looked as if he wanted to say more and had simply lost his words. Well, no matter. She could certainly do enough chattering for the both of them.

"Merry Christmas, Gray," she said, walking down to meet him. He blushed at her nearness, but did not look away. Rising up on her tiptoes, she kissed him lightly on the lips. "How did you know it was me?"

The poor boy looked absolutely dumbstruck. He flushed an even brighter red than before, and then...and then...like a sunrise, like a slowly warming heart, like flowers working their way out of the snow, blooming in the midst of winter, Gray smiled. Awestruck, she smiled in response, which only made him blush harder. She could have cheered. When he stammered at last, "I wasn't completely sure, but I hoped," she actually did. He stared at her as if she were mad, then his smile grew even wider. If she were a daring woman, she might have even called it a grin.

"And I suppose you'll dance with me at the Flower Festival?" she teased, taking his hand. She was pleased to note he was wearing the mittens she had made. And were those red, knitted socks peeking out of the tops of his boots? Then again, who was she to judge clothing? She was still clad in chicken pajamas and bright green slippers. Goddess only knew what her hair looked like right now.

He looked away, still blushing, and she knew he didn't care about her appearance, probably found it endearing. "I suppose," he said gruffly, shuffling a bit, but made no move to let go of her hand.

Well, perhaps dancing together at the festival could be a gift for her birthday. After all, today she had already received him, and that long sought after smile.

It wouldn't do to be too greedy on Christmas.


End file.
